


how a broken heart mends ;; woosan

by P0RCELAINS



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Blink and you’ll miss it, Enjoy folks, Happy Ending, M/M, San-centric, Woosan, basically san is heartbroken and he learns to deal with it, but it’s barely there, for once lmao, hinted yeosan, i still cant tag for shit, sequel to i can’t make you love me, with a little help from yeosang, yeah that’s it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:22:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23407480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/P0RCELAINS/pseuds/P0RCELAINS
Summary: a story wherein san breaks down and builds himself back up.
Relationships: Choi San & Jung Wooyoung, Choi San & Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	how a broken heart mends ;; woosan

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! i know i haven’t posted in a while i’ve just been in one hell of a slump because of college and stuff but nonetheless i hope you’re all doing alright and staying safe, please enjoy this little thing i wrote because a lot of people asked me for san’s pov even though it’s a little rough and im not very proud of it bc i haven’t written in ages jahsjshs
> 
> this is a sequel to my other story “i can’t make you love me” so if you haven’t read that yet i highly suggest you do so that this story will make a little more sense.
> 
> alright i said a lot, hope yall have fun!

**—San awoke to the feeling of nothingness.** It was almost as if a void had opened up and swallowed him whole, reducing him to numbness. Everything felt fuzzy, like he wasn’t even there at all and for a minute he wondered if he had woken up in a dream. He hoped it was all just a bad dream and when he woke up, everything would be the way it was and he could continue living in his delusion, but the boy lying next to him made the reality come crashing back down and he suddenly felt sick.

The arms wrapped around him, which once made him feel warm and safe, suddenly felt foreign and suffocating, like they belonged to a stranger. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Wooyoung’s face as he tried to untangle himself from the boy as gently as possible, trying not to wake him up. He knew if he took one glance at the black haired boy, he wouldn’t want to leave.

So, San carefully maneuvered around the cramped dorm room, slipping his discarded clothing back on and collecting the few belongings he had, jamming them into his backpack before heading to the door, turning the knob, and stepping one foot outside. But the longing was too great for him to control and he ended up taking one last look at the boy sleeping soundly on the single-sized bed, allowing his eyes to trace over every single feature, every single dip and curve. His hair was a mess of black on his pillow, almost like spilled ink on a piece of paper, plump lips slightly agape and pink from the cold, his lashes rested beautifully on honey colored cheeks, arms wrapped around a pillow, his pretty hands clutching onto it for dear life, like it was the only thing he needed in order to get by and San almost got back in bed next to him.  _ Almost. _

But his heart felt too heavy, too pained to stay one more night, no matter how much he pleaded with himself that it would just be one more night. Even after the revelation that Wooyoung never loved him, that he was simply using him as a distraction, San would still risk it all just to stay by his side.

In a perfect world, San would’ve been angry, would’ve yelled at Wooyoung until his throat felt raw. He would’ve called Wooyoung out for every single shitty thing he’d done to hurt him. In a perfect world, San wouldn’t have allowed this to happen, wouldn’t have given until he ran dry for someone who would never do the same for him. In a perfect world, San wouldn’t have taken one last glance.

But the world wasn’t so perfect and suddenly, it was so much harder to leave as all the memories came flooding back like a tidal wave, nearly dragging San under. It took everything in him to look away, closing the door behind him.

Although, San couldn’t bring himself to close the door on Wooyoung. In the days and weeks that followed his heart still longed for the black haired boy and his mind often wondered how he was doing. He wondered if Wooyoung missed him or if he ever spared a minute to think about him at all. It was slowly driving the blonde boy to insanity. Every notification on his phone made his heart swell as he checked to see if it was Wooyoung, resulting in disappointment every single time.

Suddenly, his bed didn’t feel like his bed anymore, his home didn’t feel like home. San dreaded the night because there was no loneliness that compared to lying in his single-sized bed with his arms wrapped around himself. Most nights he’d shut his eyes as tightly as he could, trying to convince himself that he was back in Wooyoung’s dorm, that it was Wooyoung’s arms wrapped around him, and that everything was okay. But as the days went by it became harder and harder to remember how it felt like to feel okay, because the only time he ever felt fine was when the black haired boy was by his side. 

He was desperately grasping onto fragments of fleeting memories, fading as each day passed. It was almost like San was losing Wooyoung all over again and it was too much for him to bear. He felt as if he was going to spiral.

The musky scent San knew so well became harder and harder to retrieve from the back of his mind, and the sound of Wooyoung’s voice, so soft and sweet like honey dripping from his mouth, that San could practically hear whenever he thought about it, had been reduced to nothing but a faint whisper.

San had lost count of the amount of times he had cried. He could no longer recall how many times he had beaten himself up over not being enough for Wooyoung to love him back, wondered if what he had given lacked. Of course, it lacked. All San knew how to do was give, and give, and give until he ran dry, and even when he had given everything he could ever give, it still wasn’t enough for Wooyoung. 

He hated himself for being so stupid. He should’ve noticed the red flags from the start, the way the black haired boy could never meet his eyes, the way he was always so detached. San was always there for Wooyoung, but was he ever there for San? Was Wooyoung ever there at all? 

San’s mind flashed back to that one rainy Thursday night when he had felt his lowest. He could still hear his parents fighting downstairs, his father storming out in the middle of the argument, slamming the door behind him and taking the car. He could almost feel his mother’s sobs racking her body as she cried in the room just next to his. Remembered opening the door to the police a few hours later as they told him the terrible news of a car accident and how he collapsed alongside his mother.

He always tried to stay strong, to bear his burdens. He hated showing any sign of weakness, but that night it was all too much for him. San needed someone, so he called the only person he knew could silence the turmoil within himself. That was the  _ only  _ time San ever asked Wooyoung for anything, but the black haired boy had an exam at seven that morning and he understood. San always understood.

But if it were Wooyoung who needed him, the blonde boy would be by his side within minutes. It was like San was on a seesaw, never leaving the ground, just watching Wooyoung rise up, and he was content with that. Seeing the black haired boy happy was all he needed.

But San had grown to learn that seesaws don't work like that, that it isn’t a one-sided thing. And suddenly the blonde haired boy resented Wooyoung. He couldn’t fathom how someone could be so cold-hearted and cruel as to play with him the way Wooyoung had. San was mad at himself for allowing himself to get played with, feeling disgust rise in his throat as he remembered everything they had done, everything he had allowed Wooyoung to do.

San felt like his body was on fire, every inch of skin Wooyoung had touched, every part of him that he had explored, burned with a painful reminder of the mistakes he had made. He wanted to claw at himself, try and erase the feeling of Wooyoung’s phantom fingertips tracing his jaw, his shoulder blades, his stomach, his thighs. But the blonde boy knew that there was nothing that could undo what had been done.

So he continued to trudge through each life-draining day with a heavy, burnt-out heart. 

San was tired, so very tired. 

“Hey San.” Someone said from beside him, making him jump ever so slightly and when he turned his head he saw a boy with coffee brown hair falling into his coffee eyes in matted waves, a small pink birthmark planted on one of his cheeks. “You haven’t been yourself lately, are you alright?”

“Yeah, Yeosang, I’m fine.” San replied dryly.

The other boy rolled his eyes and that’s when San took the time to look around and saw that the two of them were the only ones left in the classroom.

“Class ended fifteen minutes ago.” Yeosang said. “I know we aren’t very close, but I just wanted to check up on you. You look like you’re going through some shit.”

San remained silent as he watched the boy pack up his things and sling his backpack over his shoulder.

“The painting assignment is due this Friday, by the way, just in case you didn’t hear.”

“Thanks.” 

Yeosang was about to leave, probably to head over to his next class, when he suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned around, once again startling the blonde boy still seated at his desk.

“I don’t really feel like attending art history today.” Yeosang said, prompting San to raise an eyebrow. “I was wondering if maybe you’d want to grab a bite to eat. Maybe you could share what’s been bothering you so much recently.”

San weighed his options. Attending color theory class didn’t really sound very interesting to him either and it had been a while since he’d spent time with someone just for the sake of hanging out.

With a shrug of his shoulders, San stood up and grabbed his backpack.

“Sure, why not?”

And that’s how San ended up ranting everything out to Yeosang in a sandwich shop right across campus. He told the brown haired boy everything from start to finish, from the moment he met Wooyoung to the night he had left the dorm brokenhearted, and everything in between. Yeosang simply listened, not once did he butt in, he just nodded along, absorbing everything San had to tell him. It felt nice to finally let it out, almost like some kind of closure. And only when San was done talking, breathless and a little red in the face, did the brown haired boy react.

“This Wooyoung dude sounds like an absolute asshole.” Yeosang said and it made San laugh. It was the first genuine laugh he’d been able to muster in a long time and the other boy chuckled along with him.

“Yeah, he  _ is _ an asshole, isn’t he?” San replied between giggles.

“The biggest asshole, like, how could he do that to you?” Yeosang asked no one in particular, his eyebrows knitted together. “But then again, you were pretty dumb — no, wait — you were  _ really _ fucking dumb to allow him to do that to you.”

San grunted as he jokingly rolled his eyes. “God, don’t remind me. I know better now, okay?”

The brunette laughed once more and that was the last time San ever talked about Wooyoung.

The two ended up cutting their classes for the rest of the day, too indulged in casual conversation with each other to notice how much time had passed by. Only when the sun had begun to set did San notice how long it had actually been and they both packed up their stuff and bid each other farewell as they went their separate ways, but that wasn’t the last time San and Yeosang hung out. In fact, it was the first of many.

A friendship had blossomed between the pair in no time at all as they’d meet up nearly everyday, sometimes helping each other with school work, other times just hanging out and talking about anything under the sun, laughing and joking with each other like they were the only ones around. 

Things were easy with Yeosang. He made San feel at peace, made him forget about his problems. He wasn’t used to this type of relationship. For the first time since San could remember, he continued to be his usual self, San still kept on giving, but Yeosang never failed to give back. The brunette was always there for the blonde, and San knew that. Every time things got rough all over again, he knew he could always go to Yeosang, and the brown haired boy was always willing to accept him with open arms.

San didn’t know it could feel so good to be with someone, to have someone there for you, and wondered why he allowed himself to believe he deserved any less.

He felt healed, he felt brand new. 

San finally felt okay,  _ truly okay _ .

He no longer felt heartache, nor anger, nor regret when he thought about Wooyoung. In fact, he hardly ever thought about Wooyoung at all anymore. He had finally allowed himself to close that door.

And when he was strolling around campus one day with Yeosang in tow, San caught sight of an all-too-familiar black haired boy walking on the other side of that exact same grass patch from two or three springs ago, struggling to carry a 3D model of a house in one hand and a bunch of books in the other as he turned his head to the side, catching the blonde’s gaze and holding it. Everything seemed to freeze.

Yeosang must’ve noticed the way San stopped in his tracks and stepped closer to see what had caught his attention.

“Is that who I think it is?” He asked, an edge of worry in his voice as if he was scared that San would end up relapsing at the sight of him.

The blonde hadn’t seen Wooyoung since that night in his dorm. His black hair was messy and his eyes were void of any emotion, tired and preoccupied with other thoughts, but San could have sworn he saw a flash of guilt soften the black haired boy’s gaze as they made eye contact. A silent sorry. A silver of regret.

“Are you okay?” Yeosang asked after a while and San had nearly forgotten he was there.

San smiled a small but genuine smile before nodding his head at the black haired boy.

_ It’s okay. I’m okay. _

And Wooyoung did the same, his lips pressed into a thin line before breaking eye contact, and continuing to walk in the direction he was intending to go, San watching him disappear amongst the crowd of students, taking a deep breath when his eyes could no longer find him.

“I still think he deserves the world.” The blonde said, his gaze still far away, before looking back at Yeosang, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “He just doesn’t deserve to be  _ my _ world anymore.”

The brunette smiled upon hearing the blonde’s words.

“I’m proud of you.” Yeosang said before taking San’s hand in his, giving it a small squeeze, as they began to walk again.

“Me too.”

And just like that,

The world continued turning.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> and that’s the end of that, i didn’t hurt san or kill anyone off in this one i hope u guys are proud of me
> 
> anyways thank you so much for reading i really appreciate all ur kudos and comments they truly brighten my day<3
> 
> also i have 2 more woosan aus in the works so yeah hope i finish them. yeah ok that’s all hnggg thank u again for reading!!


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